


The One Where Harry Potter Loses (Unintentionally, of course)

by rosememenulas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Dark Arts, Fix-It of Sorts, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Smart Rose Weasley, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:46:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosememenulas/pseuds/rosememenulas
Summary: Rose Granger-Weasley is a curious witch by nature, and when she realizes she needs a teacher for the Dark Arts, Rose casts a spell that launches her into the past, changing the future in the process.Basically: Rose doesn't get enough hype and I want to explore the Dark Arts in the wizarding world.
Relationships: Background Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Kudos: 8





	The One Where Harry Potter Loses (Unintentionally, of course)

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify: this is epilogue compliant, but not Cursed Child compliant. It probably could be, but I didn't write it with that in mind. Enjoy!

Rose panted as she shifted the boxes full of books. Sometimes her mom’s book obsession got a little crazy, especially if you were looking for a very specific type. Rose had, indeed, inherited Hermione’s lust for knowledge, but had also gotten Ron’s tendency to throw herself headfirst into danger. As a result, she had taken a deep dive into the Dark Arts these past few months without any concern for her safety.

That being said, the Dark Arts would only hurt those who didn’t have an affinity for them. It gave them a bit of a bad reputation simply because Light Arts worked for most everyone, but some were more powerful than others, like her Uncle Harry.

She huffed aloud, sifting through the books in the box in front of her. Names flashed by her, some she recognized and others she didn’t. Those she didn’t, she pulled out, scanned the back, and either set back in the box or the stack next to her. 

Sitting back on her haunches, Rose gathered the books in her arms and silently slipped down the stairs. A quick stop at the bottom confirmed that no-one had heard her sneaking around at two in the morning, but it was mostly custom at this point. She had only been caught once, and that was when Hugo had wanted a drink and Rose had scared him. She shuddered mutely at the memory. That was a disaster.

Books balancing precariously in her arms, Rose tiptoed down the hallway to her room. This long stretch of the hallway was the hardest because Hugo and her parents slept only a door away. A single creak from the old floorboards would mean the end of her furtive research. Her parents were still stuck in their reflexes for the war and sneaking was hard when your parents were used to ‘constant vigilance’.

Rose dumped the books on the bed and carefully shut the door without a squeak. Turning back to her bed, she surveyed the room. The walls were newly painted light blue and the thick grey carpet complimented it perfectly. Dad had groaned when they painted it the year before about the Ravenclaw colors, but Rose had fired back about putting up with the red and gold all year long and he relented. 

Peeling back her comforter, she grabbed the books one by one off her bed and stacked them neatly below, spelling them with a simple Notice-Me-Not. It wasn’t enough to completely hide them, but her parents didn’t suspect her of anything so far and it wasn’t like Hugo to go searching through her room. 

She had left one book on her bed for a bit of light reading. Magick Moste Evil was buried deep in her mother’s stash, and the title alone promised an interesting read. 

The worst part about being home was that if she cast any sort of Dark magic, the Ministry would immediately know. At least at Hogwarts she could practice undetected, even if she couldn’t bring her books. The Room of Requirement could easily replace them as long as she concentrated, but it was so much more work. Not for the first time, she yearned for a wizarding world where all types of magic were allowed to flourish. 

She flipped to the table of contents and scanned it. Later, she’d go back and dissect it, bit by bit until she practically had it memorized, but for now, she just wanted a fun read; At least, as fun as ‘evil’ magic could get. 

“Summoning magic?” Rose muttered under her breath. That sounded confusing and interesting, her kind of magic. She flipped to page three hundred and ninety-four and settled in for the night. 

Fifteen minutes later, she read about a spell that wasn’t inherently Dark but was equally obscure. It was a Summoning spell for a teacher. According to the book, each witch and wizard needed a different teacher for different arts at different times of their lives. Rose looked around, listening for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath and casting it.   
“Kalo daskalos,” She cast, tracing her wand in the air as the book instructed. Since it was a Summoning spell, she expected someone to be brought to their house, which, in hindsight, was not the best decision considering it was just after two, and their house was warded to the gills, but it was already done. 

A bright light flashed, and suddenly she was falling, no, she was flying, soaring through the light until she was dumped suddenly onto a cold, stone floor. 

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Rose groaned as she lifted herself off the hard floor. She scanned the room and was instantly alert when she found herself surrounded by men clothed in black, wands pointed at her and unfriendliness reeking from them. 

“Is she mad?” One of the men standing over her asked hesitantly. 

Rose rolled her eyes and stood, rather unsteadily to her dismay. “No, I am not; It’s just a quote from a Muggle book I read.” She eyed their wands, which were steadily aimed at her head and torso. “I’m assuming you lot are wizards, then?”

“Of course,” The blond standing closest to her said smoothly. “And you are?”

Narrowing her eyes, she answered, “You first.”

“Darling, you’re in no position to be-” Rose cut off the brunet that had spoken with a sharp jab in the stomach. 

“I am not your darling, and I’ve done magic the likes of which you could never imagine,” She spat, conjuring up her worst sneer, just like Professor Malfoy had taught her. Remembering the wands that were still pointed unwaveringly at her, she calmed. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I simply did a spell to find a teacher for me; I don’t know where I am or who you lot are, so tell me and I’ll tell you.”

The blond that had spoken before glanced over his shoulder, as if for permission, then stated, “We are the Death Eaters, and my name is Lucius Malfoy.”

Rose’s eyes widened and she stumbled back a touch. “Wha-what year is this?” 

The brunet she had elbowed scoffed. “What year is it?” He mocked. “Who doesn’t know what year it is?”

Rose raised an eyebrow, brown eyes narrowing again. “Well, I’m assuming it’s not 2020 because he’s,” She jabbed her finger at Lucius, “In Azkaban and you all are dead or with him.” 

Their eyes widened, mirroring her own a few seconds before. “It’s 1997, and I think you should sit down,” A deep voice came from behind Lucius. 

Sensing it was not a request, Rose sat at the long wooden table and gasped as her drab brown eyes met the glimmering red ones of Lord Voldemort. 

She sucked in a quick breath, shock and fear coursing through her blood. “You-you’re supposed to be dead!” 

He scoffed as his followers twittered in amusement. “Stupid girl, I can never die.”

Rose ignored the Death Eaters as they sat back down, a flurry of dark cloaks around the table. Her mind raced with possibilities. If it truly was 1997, that meant her parents and Uncle Harry were Horcrux hunting. “What month is it?” She asked after a long pause, ignoring Voldemort’s false statement. 

“It’s October twenty-third,” Lucius answered after a quick look at his lord. 

“In less than seven months you will be killed at Hogwarts by Harry Potter,” Rose announced, smirking at the Dark Lord. She knew she was about to start a dangerous game, but that spell had brought her here for a reason. “That is unless I decided to help you.”

Voldemort laughed cruelly, high and maniacal. It sent a shiver up her spine and she forced herself to not flinch. “Child, I will find out what you know whether you want me to or not.” 

Checking to make sure her mental walls were still up, she replied confidently, “Oh, I’m sure you will, and it’ll be too late once you do.” Rose leaned forward onto the table, conscious of the stares she was getting. “All you have to do is teach me the Dark magic I can’t learn from books, and I’ll give you everything you need. No torturing or drawn-out mental battles.”

Voldemort stared at her, obviously surprised. “You want to be taught the Dark Arts?” He scoffed. “Child, you are lighter than Albus Dumbledore, why would you want to learn such magic?”

Rose smirked. “Sure, my family is Light, but I have an affinity for the Dark Arts and I want to learn everything I can about magic, Light and Dark.”

“You realize you will have to give me some proof that you know what you’re talking about.” Voldemort raised a skeptical eyebrow, unsuspecting of what she was going to say next. 

Rose drew herself up, then announced proudly, “I am Rose Granger-Weasley, the oldest child of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Currently, they are on the run with Harry Potter, my uncle. They’re looking for your Horcruxes.” She grinned at the surprised looks from the Death Eaters, reveling in the look that a particularly disgusted Severus Snape shot her. “You made seven, they have destroyed two and have another in their possession. By the time you meet again, you will only have two left.”

Voldemort seemed to pale as Rose revealed his secret to immortality to his followers. He hadn’t known yet that her parents and uncle were after them, and Rose just hoped this didn’t change the future too much. Teacher or not, she didn’t want Voldemort surviving past May second. 

The pair stared at each other, and Rose allowed her mental shields down just enough to show him the memory of her dad telling Rose about what happened their seventh year. The Death Eaters around them murmured amongst themselves till the memory finished and Rose forced him out once more. 

“Quiet!” He roared, glaring at Rose with those strange red eyes and she forced herself not to flinch. “I will teach you.” 

“I look forward to our partnership, my Lord,” Rose replied, grinning victoriously. She pushed back from the table and stood. “We have time before anything major happens. I’d like to retire now.”

Voldemort held up a pale hand. “One question before you go: who taught you to use Occlumency?”

Rose scanned the table, looking for the familiar head of platinum hair. When she spotted him, she pointed to where he was sitting between his parents. “He did, after my cousin and his son started dating. As both of their best friends, reporters attacked me and gained sensitive information about both boys. He taught the three of us.”

Draco Malfoy seemed to pale even further and shrink into himself, staring confusedly at Rose. He seemed to be only a few years older than herself, which was strange. When she had first met him, he was the stern but fair Potions Professor, and then as she had known him as her best friend’s father. 

“My son? Wha-what?” He stuttered out, so different from the confident, yet tired man she knew. 

She grinned at him, remember Dad and Uncle Harry’s stories about their frequent fights. “Harry Potter’s son is dating your son in my time.” Laughing a bit at the expression on Draco’s face, she turned and walked out, intending to find a room she could take a long nap in. Time travel was hard.


End file.
